Running on All Sixes
by lunarshores
Summary: The Whitebeard gang might be one of the most influential in the city, but to Marco they're just his family. Though he sometimes wishes they'd just leave him alone, especially when Izo's playing matchmaker, and Ace is his usual oblivious self. When a brother betrays them, they'll have to fight to show why no one ever messes with their family [Marco/Ace, 1920's AU]
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you to Anjelle for betaing and the wonderful advice!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece. Considering my lack of drawing skills rivals Luffy's, this is a very good thing.**

Marco jumped in his seat as the door to his office suddenly flew open. Thatch burst into the room, clutching a disorganized mass of papers in his hands.

"I'm..." Thatch tossed the lot onto Marco's previously perfectly sorted desk, breathing heavily, "not late..." he flopped into the armchair in front of Marco's desk, "this month!" He looked ridiculously proud of himself for turning them in two minutes before they were nominally due.

"I think I prefer it when you are late, yoi." Marco looked at his desk in resigned dismay, "At least then you can only mess up your own accounts."

Thatch pouted. "You're just never happy, are you? You're such a wet blanket*. Who needs paperwork, anyway?"

"Just be glad you don't have to oversee the actual business side of your speakeasies*. They'd go under in no time."

"Please, I'd do great!"

"You can't even manage to neatly pass along the inventory and accounting on time."

Thatch opened his mouth to protest.

"_Neatly._" Marco pointedly looked at the disaster zone that was now his desk. Thatch wisely snapped his mouth shut, though he didn't bother to feign guilt.

"Fine, fine. I'll leave you to it then." He grinned at Marco and got up from his sprawl nonchalantly, apparently recovered from his sprint, and thankfully left to go make trouble elsewhere.

Maro sighed in relief and turned to straightening up his desk. Today he had found it harder than usual to concentrate on the numbers in front of him, but they had to be done by the time he had to change for the evening's celebration. Marco had been trusted by Pops to watch over his family's finances, and he would do nothing to betray that trust, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

He picked up the photograph that had fallen down in the onslaught of creased papers and smiled. It was their first family portrait. Pops had insisted, even though it was just the two of them, and they could really use the money for more essential things.

Like most of his brothers, Marco had grown up running in childrens' gangs in the less savory parts of town. It was common enough for children of immigrants to end up on the streets, and most gangsters had similar pasts.

One cold, winter night, Marco had been walking back to his hovel with a less-than-stellar take. He remembered that he'd been worried because his coal supply was low, and the weather had been bitterly cold, even for Chicago.

Marco had refused to join any major gang, preferring a harder life to being disposable grunt. His resolve had been wavering that winter though. Anything to keep from freezing to death.

A sudden pop and a burst of red-hot pain shooting through his shoulder had shattered his reveries. Marco had fallen back from the force of the shot and landed with a splash in the muddy slush that covered the road. The indeterminately colored slush grew darker with blood in the dim light from the sparse street lamps.

And that was how his life would have ended, if it weren't for Pops-bleeding out slowly in the gutter, with no one to care or notice.

His memories of the night were hazy since, by the time Pops had found him, Marco's vision had been already blurring out, and his sense of the world had receded. He had be conscious only of overwhelming cold and numbness. When the large man had stanched the blood oozing out of his wound and lifted him up, Marco's only impression was of welcome warmth, before his consciousness faded, and he slid into oblivion.

He'd come to in an unfamiliar room, remarkable only in its miniscule size and dingyness . Newgate had drawn his eyes immediately, being the only thing of interest. He had sat in an old, spindly wooden chair which had looked like it was going to give out any second under the man's weight, the only piece of furniture besides the bed and a small table.

"Good morning, son. Glad to see you're finally up!"

Marco had jumped at the sudden greeting, not having noticed his perusal of the room was being observed. He'd looked warily at the giant man without replying. Newgate had smirked knowingly at him and had poured him a glass of water from the pitcher at the bedside table. Marco had taken it, but looked at it suspiciously without drinking.

Whitebeard laughed robustly, causing Marco to cringe as the sound reverberated in his aching head. Still, he had to fight the urge to smile; even then, Pops' laugh had been contagious.

"You must be thirsty, brat. You've been out for four days with a fever. Drink. If I wanted you dead, it would have been easier to leave you in the gutter."

"Why-" Marco barely managed to croak the word out before his voice failed him. He'd given in and drank the water, glaring at the man who had just laughed harder.

"Why'd I pick you up?"

Marco nodded as Whitebeard poured him another cup.

"Fate."

"What kind of reasoning is that?" He'd finally been able to respond, but his voice was still scratchy with disuse.

"My dream has always been to have a family. I'd finally made enough to leave the backstabbing brute that I was working for and set out on my own when I ran into you. My very first son." He had paused, then grinned at Marco, "Fate." His booming laugh once more rang through the room.

Marco smiled to himself, remembering how he had tried to escape the clearly deranged man countless times, with little success. The man had an impressive sense for when he'd make his next escape attempt. Eventually, he'd stopped trying to escape, realizing the futility of trying to change Edward Newgate's mind once it was made up.

It didn't help that, for the first time in a long time, someone had _wanted _him around, enough to call him family. He'd lost the moment Whitebeard called him 'son' and, though he hadn't noticed its significance at the time, it was almost the first word out of his mouth.

By the time he had been well enough to shed his bandages, he'd started calling the old man 'Pops' and they let fate guide them to the rest of their now very large family. Their gang was fiercely loyal to their boss, since the man had given them all a family, a place to belong when the world had thought they were no more than worthless trash.

Whitebeard's territory was now so large that they had decided to split it into sixteen districts, with the most senior members of the family each running a district. They all had around one hundred subordinates, and the gang ran more like an alliance of gangs these days. With Pops getting up in age, Marco had taken control of most of the day to day affairs, though Pops made all of the big decisions and was still considered the strongest man in the city.

Two years ago a rookie boss came to take Pops' head and claim the title of 'strongest man'. Marco chuckled, remembering how angry and stubborn Ace had been back then. None of them had liked the fiery-tempered man, famous for arson and his ruthless hand-to-hand fighting, but Pops had seen potential in him where none of them could. He'd told Marco that Ace needed a family even more than Marco had.

After one hundred days of thwarted assassination attempts, Ace finally accepted Whitebeard's mark and, shortly afterward, took over the second district and proved Pops was correct. His attitude had changed drastically since he joined the family.

Now, no one would believe that the carefree young man, who constantly played pranks on his older brothers and managed to "accidentally" catch something on fire on a weekly basis, was the same as the defensive, spiteful terror who'd rejected all attempts to befriend him.

Marco looked out the window, hoping to see his youngest brother returning safely, though it was far too early for him to even have started. He supposed he should just take it as a good sign that the whole sky wasn't lit up, signaling that the entire warehouse district was in flames.

It wouldn't be the first time the brat had given him such a scare. He just wished the whole mission wasn't as crucial as it was. The clock chimed, and it finally sank in how late it was already. He only had a few hours before the celebration tonight to clear his desk.

Marco stretched, once more glancing down the street, looking for a familiar figure. He had finished the accounts and still had half an hour before it would be worth going downstairs.

It was still far too early for the freckled man to be heading back, even if everything went smoothly, but he couldn't resist the urge to check one more time. He ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. Though he knew Ace would be fine, his mind kept coming up with horrible scenarios.

It was getting harder to keep his unnecessary protectiveness of the boy in check. Ignoring his feelings for Ace was difficult, but he mostly managed to shove them aside. He needed to do better at ignoring them, though, or Ace was bound to notice.

Marco was startled out of his brooding by his door flying open for the second time.

"You could knock, yoi."

"I did. You didn't answer, so I came in anyway to see what was wrong. Were you really so wrapped up in the accounts that you didn't notice?" Izo sauntered into the room, an intrigued look gracing his perfectly made up face, and settled himself gracefully on one of the armchairs in front of Marco's desk.

Marco's brother and boss of the sixteenth district was all dolled up* for the evening with bright red lipstick and a square necked, kneelength silk dress in pale pink. The back was cut daringly low, exposing his shoulder blades. There was a matching silk rose pinned on one shoulder and a similarly colored headband with long feather in his pinned up hair.

Diamonds sparkled from his throat and ears. Marco couldn't deny the outfit suited the other man; most people passing on the street would think he was just another dame, and a good-looking one at that. However, Izo was the last person he wanted to see him distracted with thoughts of Ace.

There was a reason the man was in charge of gathering intelligence for the family. He could be downright scary. Thatch swore the man could read minds, and Marco found it hard to persuade him that it wasn't true, since he couldn't disregard the notion himself.

"Just concentrating on the accounting." Marco gestured to the paperwork directly in front of him, somehow managing to keep his bland expression even though he was lying through his teeth.

"Bull," Izou casually shot down Marco's hopes of escaping a cross-examination while checking his manicure, "That's the report I gave you this morning."

Well, shit. He could have sworn it was the accounting.

"Wha-" Marco began as his gaze shot to the papers in front of his, wondering how on earth he managed to slip up that badly. The accounting stared back at him. Damn it.

"You didn't even know what was in front of you, hm?" Izo's tone sent shivers down the blond man's spine. He looked far more predatory than Marco was comfortable with. This definitely did not bode well for him.

Once Izo caught wind of a secret, he was nearly impossible to shake until he knew what it was. Not that he'd use the secret against Marco, but he did like to tease his brothers, especially Marco, who so rarely was caught off guard.

"Not to mention, I didn't even give you any reports this morning. Normally, you'd have remembered that I haven't been here at all today. That's quite the distraction."

Before Marco could answer, the other man brushed it off, with a careless wave of his hand. "Nevermind that now, it's not important."

Marco's brows shot up, but again he was given no time to speak.

"Now, as to why I came in the first place: you know how Vista was picked up by the coppers* on an easy run* the other day?"

"Since we're about to have a party in a couple hours to celebrate his safe return, I should think so."

Izo rolled his eyes before his face turned as serious as Marco had ever seen on the normally flippant man. Marco immediately straightened, eyes on the other.

"I-"

He seemed to be at a loss for where to go from there. The silence quickly passed from comfortable to stifling, but Marco couldn't bring himself to interrupt it.

Finally Izo took a deep breath and met Marco's eyes squarely.

"Did anything about his arrest strike you are strange?"

"I hadn't given it much thought beyond that he would be released, yoi."

Izo dropped his gaze, and bit his lower lip, smudging his lipstick.

"Should I have?" Marco finally asked.

"I've looked into it," Izo hesitated then blurted out, "and-there's-no-way-Akainu-could've known-about that-run-if-he's-on-the-level."

"What copper* these days is on the level, Izo?" Marco's attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere passed unacknowledged outwardly, but Izo seemed to relax a bit.

"Someone still would have had to rat* Vista out. And the only ones who knew anything about the run... were family." He paused again. "I've triple checked."

"I still don't see-" Marco cut off abruptly, and his eyes widened in horrified comprehension, "You think we have a snitch*, yoi."

No wonder it had been so hard to say.

Izo fidgeted with the clasp of his evening bag. The sound echoed through the office, accompanied only by the the ticking of the clock.

Marco tried hard not to simply dismiss the idea out of hand just because they'd never had a snitch before. He'd always thought the whole gang was far too loyal to Pops to even consider such a possibility.

But Izo wouldn't have brought the topic to Marco unless he was sure. Vista had been arrested over a week ago, and, now that Marco thought about it, Izo had been scarce ever since. But still everything in Marco rebelled at the very thought.

He sighed and rubbed his temples.

"We'll talk to Pops after training tomorrow morning." He paused, still trying to wrap his mind around the thought of one of his brothers ratting them out to the police. "It can wait until everyone's together. Meanwhile..."

Marco shook his head, trying to clear it. "Meanwhile, there isn't anything going down before then, so just keep it between us." He exhaled slowly. "And make a list of who had access to the information."

Izo nodded, still grim-faced but looking somewhat relieved to have some direction, and rose from the chair. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back and grinned innocently.

"So, your earlier distraction was because you're carrying a torch* for Ace, right?"

He left before Marco could gather his wits enough to form a semi-coherent response. It didn't matter though. His stunned expression was all the conformation Izo needed.

Ace wiped off his hands and stepped back to admire his handiwork. The warehouse was full of gin and rum, so it wasn't much of a challenge to set up what would be a raging inferno as soon as he lit the match, but he took pride in his work. He wasn't known as Fire Fist Ace for nothing. In this case, it was crucial that no one be able to prove, or even suspect, that it was anything other than an unfortunate accident.

Kaido had been encroaching on their territory lately. He needed to be knocked down a peg, but at the same time they didn't want all out war right now. The warehouse that Ace was about to incinerate held his main supply of booze, and it'd be a huge loss to his business.

Hopefully, it'd keep him too busy to think about messing with them. Kaido's gang was one of only three who'd have the guts to start something with the Whitebeards _and_ had the muscle and firepower to back it up.

Gang wars were far worse for business than a little competition, so the four emperors of Chicago's underworld tended to ignore each other. Kaido was the major exception. He was greedy and more than a little bloodthirsty. It was better for everyone if he had an "internal" supply problem to keep him occupied. Or at least that was what Marco had said.

It had been difficult to sneak in without anyone noticing. There were two guards at every door, plus at least four that he had counted that walked through the place, checking on everything. Ace was not known for his subtlety, so he was inordinately proud that he'd managed to slip in a window undiscovered. His pride was still smarting over Marco's clear disbelief in his abilities when he'd given him this mission.

He'd told Ace to be careful or some variant of the theme at least five times when they'd discussed the mission. Marco had even made Ace go over his plans for the mission with him twice. He hadn't even had any plans, so he'd had to make some up on the spot. Seriously, what kind of plan did you need to burn a building down?

Marco clearly thought he was completely incompetent, but Ace would prove to him that he was more than capable. He was the best arsonist in the city, and no one would ever even suspect this fire was anything other than bad luck. It wasn't rare for warehouses like this to catch fire. More than likely one or more of the guards would be blamed for smoking near something so flammable.

The Flatties* surely wouldn't poke too hard into the fire, since Kaido would want to keep it quiet, and even those on the level would just be glad another speakeasy supply house was gone. Ace smirked arrogantly. Nothing would go wrong. He'd show Marco he could take care of himself and complete his missions as seamlessly as any of his older brothers.

The scent of alcohol was heavy in the air. Ace looked around again, wondering if it was too much. He didn't want it to go too overboard and burn down the city. Or half of the warehouse district like last time. Boy, had Marco been angry. Pops had thought it was hilarious, but the stupid pineapple had no sense of humor.

How was he supposed to have known that the stash of weapons he'd been ordered to burn included dynamite? Ace looked almost accusingly at the barrels filling the large room, as if they, too, might contain something suspicious.

This time he'd made sure to check around. There was nothing particularly incendiary in the warehouses nearby, so if the firefighters knew what they were doing and got here quickly enough, they should be able to keep it contained to this one building. The guards would most likely all be able to escape, unless they tried too hard to put out the blaze.

A fire he started was not one to be put out so easily. Especially not a fire he'd started in a warehouse full of pressurized booze. Ace grinned in anticipation. He always loved watching the flames grow. It was too bad that he'd be far away by the time the inevitable explosions began.

With that thought he lit a match, and held it to the liquor-soaked wooden inner wall of the warehouse. It caught quickly, but Ace stayed for a bit to make sure it wouldn't go out. Not that he thought it would, but he had to prove to Marco he was capable, and the fire sputtering out was definitely not the way to do that.

Ace stepped away from the wall as the flames licked up it and spread to a conveniently-placed barrel. When the barrel caught, he turned to leave. It wouldn't do to be caught now and the fire would quickly draw the guards notice. He duck behind more barrels across the room, darting through the narrow aisle in a crouch.

He wormed his way between the closely-packed barrels towards the nearest guarded door. Just as he got there a shout rang out as the fire was noticed. Both guards immediately left their station to try to put it out. Ace scoffed. Amateurs.

The door creaked slightly as he eased it open but the guards couldn't hear it over the fuss they were making. Ace slipped out of the now unguarded door like a shadow, shutting it just as a whoosh of noise came from the building, letting him know the open cask had caught.

Ace smirked, congratulating himself and settling his beloved hat more firmly on his head as he crept into the shadows. This district was less than savory and most people tended to avoid it after working hours. There was no one around at this time of night, but on the off chance that anyone did see him nearby, it would be obvious the warehouse had not burned by accident. He had something of a reputation, after all. It would be the very declaration of war that Marco and Pops were trying to prevent.

After he walked about a dozen blocks, an explosion rocked the street, and the roar of the fire became audible even from this distance. Sirens shrieked in the distance. Ace let his smirk grow into a grin as he made his escape. A perfect caper*. That would show that stuffy old bird* that he was just as capable as any of the others. Soon he was far enough away to catch a streetcar, and he was home free.

Ace looked down at his rumpled black clothes and grimaced. They reeked of alcohol and smoke. He sighed. Ace would prefer to stay in his comfortably worn work clothes despite the smell, but sadly he had enough time to go home and clean up before making his way to the Moby Dick. His grin faded and a petulant frown surfaced. He really hated suits.

**Sorry, this chapter is kind of slow. It will pick up soon XD.**

**The story is set**** in Chicago, **during the 1920's, when Prohibition was in effect. Since the sale and production of alcohol was illegal during Prohibition, people used to go to bars known as speakeasies, run by gangs that proliferated at that time. Chicago was especially known for its gang activity and the corrupt police and politicians supported them (and were supported by them). I try to be as accurate possible, but I'm sure there are (or will be) anachronisms. 

**Translations of slang:**

**Wet blanket* - a killjoy, a boring person, from using wet blankets to put out fires XD**

**Speakeasy* - Illegal bar (The Moby Dick is one.) pl. speakeasies**

**Dolled up* - dressed up to go out (usually only for girls)**

**Copper* - a policeman**

**Run*- from rum running, smuggling alcohol into the city/country**

**Rat* - to betray someone to the police**

**Snitch* - informer **

**To carry a torch for someone* - have a crush on or be infatuated with someone, especially one-sided**

**Caper* - like mission or job, with an illegal connotation **

**Flatties* - Police, from flatfoot**

**Running on All Sixes* - operating at top speed/efficiency, from the newly invented (then) six cylinder combustion engine for cars **

**Let me know if I missed anything, or you have any questions. **

******The next chapter will probably be out in the next two-three weeks, provided anyone is actually interested. **Reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, everyone! Thank you so much for all of the reviews, favs, and follows. Sorry this took so long! MarcoAce week kind of snuck up on me, so I didn't get to work on this as much. I should tell you now that updates will be sporadic. I don't do well with deadlines, but there should be a chapter every month. Please let me know if I used too much slang in this (find translations at the bottom). Somehow, Thatch uses a lot... Thank you to Anjelle for betaing again!**

Ace swung off the streetcar while it was still in motion, ignoring the driver's startled exclamation. They didn't go more than fifteen miles per hour in traffic anyways. He didn't see what the big deal was. The drivers were all a bunch of wet blankets anyways. Ace was sick of the slow pace as he'd already transferred streetcars three times to get home from the warehouse and then he took the El* to downtown, and finally another street car to make his way to the Moby Dick.

It was in the center of downtown, right off the lake, which made it far from any apartment he and Luffy could afford, but it was the most upscale speakeasy they ran, and where Pops and most of the family spent their nights. It was also where they met and trained, and most of the bosses lived there along with Pops. The Moby Dick was their family's home, and they all took great pride in it.

Ace strolled past the front door of the bookstore that was the front for their home, of the same name. It was ironically one of the most popular bookstores in the city for all of the ritzy set because of the the most part the gang used an alternate entrance to avoid suspicion, though Ace often went through the front door, especially when he was in his glad rags* like tonight. Part of him was still thrilled that he was able to go through the front entrance of such a hoity-toity* place and not be looked at in disgust or even askance. Still, on busy nights it was best not to attract too much attention to the bookstore, so he passed the door without a second glance, continuing down the street.

He'd changed from his work clothes to something far more befitting of the celebration tonight. While Ace liked the lack of raised brows caused by his former attire, most of him still chafed at the confinement of the full suit. Tonight he had on his favorite, a three-piece black suit. It was the first one he had been able to get custom tailored, and he liked it far more for what it represented for him than how well it clung to his form. Ace's other suits just confined his movements, but this suit would always represented freedom to him even though it was just as restrictive as the others.

For tonight he wore it with his favorite orange shirt that was subtly pinstriped black, and a red silk tie and handkerchief. To cap it all off, he wore a black fedora with red trim. Ace had finally resigned himself to the fact that his trademark hat simply did not go with a suit. He still it wore most of the time when he was working, despite the odd looks, but when he was going out on the town, or to the Moby Dick in general Ace usually wore more appropriate headwear. Not by choice, most of the time, but Marco was a stickler for "professionalism".

Ace adjusted his fedora, pouting slightly, mourning his real hat, as he ducked down the alleyway that lead to one of the entrances to the real Moby Dick. It was an innocent-looking, indeterminately colored door, of the kind that abounded in alleyways and was nearly invisible by dint of the fact that nobody ever seemed to open them. That was not true of this door, however, since this was more or less their front door. There were over a dozen ways to get in and out of the speakeasy that Ace had found so far. He was pretty sure he knew more of them than anyone else, excepting perhaps Marco, who ran the juice joint*, since it was in his district.

He opened the door to a familiar, dim and rather digny looking hallway and made his way to the stairs. As soon as he opened to door to the basement, noise from the party poured out. Raucous laughter and loud swing music filled the poorly lit stairwell. Ace took the stairs two at a time and joined the party in the cavernous room.

The bar was the first thing anyone noticed when entering the massive room. It was solid oak, easily 30 feet long and double sided. It was difficult to tell exactly how many bartenders there were between the crowd of people around it and the sheer speed at which they moved. Ace swore there were at least half a dozen and had even made a bet with Thatch to that effect, but when he stayed until closing, there were only two. Ace was still convinced there must be a trap door hidden behind the bar somewhere. It had to be well hidden, though, because after hours of searching the next day he still couldn't find it.

Behind the bar there was a seating area with various sizes of tables, all of them with far more chairs than was customary or comfortable. Beyond those there was a dance floor that was not very full yet, since the party wouldn't pick up for an hour or two when everyone was done with the evening's work. The band on the stage at the far wall was already in full swing.

The Moby Dick was their home, and everyone in the family stopped in several times a week. It was open every night from around five until the sun rose to help accommodate the schedules of the family, many of whom worked most nights. Most of the people here were either part of the family or were involved in the underworld somehow, though there were always a fair number of cops and ward politicians* that were included in that. Pro skirts* circulated the room and dance floor, looking for work, bright flashes of color swimming through the more staid sea of suits.

Ace made his way to the bar. Like always before he had a chance to order one of the amazingly efficient bartenders had left him his usual tumbler of panther piss*, along with a few bottles to take to the table, before he'd even gotten up to the bar. Ace would never get over the magic of the bartenders.

After picking up his drink, he made his way over to Pops' chair. It was a massive wooden chair, almost throne-like in size and shape. It sat in the middle of the seating area facing the dance floor, at a round table that sat 16 others. It was nominally the district bosses table, but in reality anyone who needed to talk to Pops would stop by during the evening.

They often had their meetings here when the place was closed instead of one of the many rooms above the bookstore, since it gave them more space. The dance floor was also used to practice combat, though Marco had eventually had to forbid gun practice there since people kept putting holes in the wall (and occasionally each other).

As expected, Marco was next to Pops, along with Vista, Jozu, and Izo. He had caught Ace's eye as soon as the freckled man had walked into the room. Ace was always impressed by his senses. Whenever Ace came to give a report after a mission, Marco always noticed immediately as soon as he stepped into a room. It didn't matter how busy or loud it was. Ace had asked him once how to train so he could do that, but Marco had blushed slightly and said it just came with practice. Ace smiled at the memory. Who would have thought the unflappable Marco would blush because someone praised his abilities?

Marco sent him a questioning look as Ace approached the table. Ace huffed to himself. Just because Marco did everything perfectly, didn't mean he had the right to assume Ace was incapable. Ace pouted exaggeratedly and then ginned brightly at his de facto boss as he made his way over to the mostly empty table. The obvious look of relief on Marco's face was insulting, but Ace guessed he understood.

He was always worried about Luffy when he was doing dangerous things. Not that he was anywhere near Luffy's level of idiocy, but he knew how it felt when your little brother went off by himself. Still, it would have been nice to have his competency recognized.

"Hey, Pops. Nice to see the coppers* couldn't hold you long, Vista." Ace clapped Vista on the shoulder before taking the empty seat next to Marco, smiling at his father and all of his brothers.

"Jinbei got it sorted out quickly. He was amazing. I'm personally going to oversee that man's next election."

"We'll make sure he wins, son. He's family." Whitebeard's distinctive laugh drowned out even the band and revelers around them. He poured himself another drink from the multitude of bottles littering the table, most of them already empty.

"Indeed. We owe that man a debt, yoi." Marco tried to move the open bottle out of Pops's reach. He gestured for Ace to move it, since he couldn't reach far enough, but Ace had some common sense, contrary to popular belief, and shook his head vehemently. Marco sighed in exasperation and leaned all the way across Ace to achieve the feat. Newgate winked at Ace and swatted his eldest son on the head. Everyone at the table winced in sympathy. They all knew from experience how much that 'playful' gesture hurt.

Izo watched the whole interaction with unexpected intensity, as Jozu and Vista started discussing plans for the election that was still months away. He stared at Ace fixedly from his place on the other side of Pops from Marco, occasionally shooting a glance to Marco next to him. Ace looked down, concerned that he was missing a key piece of clothing again or something. He saw nothing wrong though and inwardly shrugged. Izo was weird like that sometimes.

He'd never understood his other brothers' wariness around Izo. Sure he could be a little strange, but none of them were innocent in that regard. When he said as much to Marco, the older man had laughed and told him that he was too genuine to ever have to worry about Izo. At Ace's still puzzled gaze, Marco had sighed.

"Izo is inordinately observant, yoi. It's like he can see through the facade you try to present to the world, straight to your innermost secrets. It's not in your nature to hide anything, so it doesn't bother you. It's not like he ever has bad intentions, but Izo's too curious not to try and find everything out."

Ace thought back over the last week, when Izo had been gone, but he still couldn't think of a secret that would interest Izo. Maybe he had one and didn't know it? The weight of Izo's gaze had yet to waver, and Ace was starting to feel pressured. No wonder people told him their secrets. Ace started wondering what it'd be like if Izo actually were to put the screws to him*.

"I was burning down Kaido's warehouse?" Ace couldn't keep a questioning tone out of his voice as he blurted out the only semi-secretive thing that came to mind.

Izo blinked, surprised by Ace's outburst, then smiled apologetically. The rest of the table looked at him in askance since they had been discussing something else entirely. Ace smiled sheepishly, and everyone laughed and turned back to the distant (in Ace's mind, at least) ward politician* elections.

Marco sighed. "Ace, how many times did we go over that you weren't supposed to tell anyone?"

"But I already did it!" Ace nodded to Thatch who was coming up to the table, gesticulating wildly, behind Izo. Maybe he was trying to play charades? If so, Ace vowed if they ever were so bored as to play such an insipid game to be on the other team. The man looked like he was trying to take flight. Ace tilted his head to convey his confusion. Thatch smacked his head silently, then returned to making a complete sap* of himself.

"Nod." Marco muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Ace, glad for anything to make his friend stop making an utter fool of himself, wasted no time in complying.

"The fewer people who know it wasn't an accident the better. Even after it is done." Izo said, "I did wonder where you were that had Marco in such-" He stopped short when Thatch bent down to lean on the table.

"Hello, doll*, whaddya say we ankle* over-" Thatch stopped, stunned to find out to whom he was pitching woo*. Ace and Marco burst into laughter at the look on his face. Izo was shocked but recovered his outward composure quickly. "Damn it, Ace, you said she- er, he was a Sheba*!" Thatch blushed bright red as everyone at the table laughed.

Izo raised a brow, "Ace, darling, I'm touched."

"Well, I had no idea what I was agreeing to, but you know I think you're the prettiest skirt* in the joint*." Ace winked and raised his glass to the other man, who was now looking down, feigning shyness, a barely perceptible shadow still over his expression.

"I- you.." Thatch had yet to regain his natural color. He jabbed a finger at Ace. "We'll settle this on the dance floor! That is, if you can find a dame* willing to dance with you before the next song starts!" With that Thatch flounced away to the nearest group of flappers*, presumably to find his own partner.

"Settle what?" Ace looked in confusion back and forth from Marco to Izo, who were laughing too uncontrollably to answer him. Pops chuckled along with them but maintained enough composure to steal the bottle back while Marco was distracted. The rest of the table shook their heads at their brothers' shenanigans.

Izo finally managed to calm down long enough to gasp out, "Never mind..." he carefully wiped a tear from his face, so as not to smudge his make up," that.. Shouldn't you... be... asking someone to.. dance?"

"Can you even dance, yoi?" Marco eyed him doubtfully.

"Of course!" Ace drew himself up proudly. "Every gangster worth his salt knows how to dance." Marco stared at him, baffled, before he composed himself so quickly Ace almost missed it, and smirked at Izo. Ace decided it was best for his peace of mind not to question his own statement and to pretend he did miss the undercurrents. It had nothing to do with the fact that Izo was the one who told him all gangsters needed to know how to dance and proceeded to instruct him, 'as a favor'.

"Izo, come dance with me!" Everyone at the table looked at him with varying degrees of surprise, but Ace didn't really want to find a random partner, if there was going to be a contest. Who knew how good they'd be? He might not know why Thatch had called him out, but he sure as hell was going to win. His honor as a gangster was (maybe) at stake. Plus, Izo probably needed to be cheered up, after that whole interaction. Ace knew Izo liked to dance, probably even more than he'd previously thought, if the glance-that-didn't-just-happen had any significance.

"You can beat that oaf with any partner. Just who do you think taught you?"

Ace pouted. "But I want to utterly obliterate him! Don't you want to help destroy his pride?"

"I did hear him saying the other day that he was the best dancer in the family." Marco drawled. Ace flashed him a grateful grin and got an indulgent smile in return. Meanwhile, Thatch had found a partner and was talking to the conductor of the band, who was nodding enthusiastically.

Izo looked over to where Thatch was clearly bragging to the raven haired beauty he'd managed to talk into dancing with him.

He sighed. "I suppose..." Though his tone was heavily laced with reluctance and boredom, Izo rose to dance with alacrity. He glanced at Ace, who was shrugging out of his jacket. "Just the jacket, Ace. Not what you usually do."

Ace pouted but complied, swinging his jacket over the back of the chair. He bowed before Izo with great theatrics, causing the entire table to laugh at the exaggerated motion. Ace was just glad to see Izo somewhat happy.

"May I have this dance?"

Izo glanced at Thatch once more before smiling wistfully and accepting Ace's proffered hand.

Marco watched the two head towards the dance floor, still dragging his mind from the thought of exactly what Ace _did_ wear when he and Izo practiced.

They joined Thatch and the dame up by the conductor, apparently discussing competition. Thatch must have protested Izo's suitability as a partner, if Ace's and Izo's expressions were any clue. The idiot must have realized he would have to back off because it was quickly dropped, though Izo still remained tense. Even from here Marco could tell that Thatch started bragging about his superb dancing skills as soon as the other topic was dropped. Instead of getting all fired up like Marco expected Ace just smirked and waved him off.

Marco spared a moment to wonder how he could manage to get smirking expressly forbidden in the family, as the conductor announced the competition. It would do wonders for his sanity. The dance floor cleared rapidly, until only the two couples remained. The previous dancers gathered around the dance floor to judge.

Marco raised a brow, still ignoring the conversation around him him in favor of watching the competition. While Thatch and his partner were practicing, Ace and Izo were just talking softly, not even in position. Even if they'd practiced together before, that was pretty arrogant. The band struck up a new song, starting at an easy tempo. The second the first note started Ace grasped Izo's hand and swung him into the dance, not missing a beat. Their footwork was flawless, though they kept it simple for now.

Thatch, meanwhile, took a little time to find the rhythm with his partner despite their earlier practice. Marco was not much of a dancer, but he knew in these contests the competitors usually took turns to show off, with the other couple doing the basic step in between their turns. It would continue until the audience decided they'd had enough and picked a couple as the winners through applause.

It was at times like this that he was especially reminded of all the reasons his feelings towards Ace were to be disregarded at all costs. Seeing him so happy and carefree made him remember just how much younger Ace really was. He still had a few years before he could find a nice dame and settle down.

Marco felt like his heart had been ripped out at the thought, but it was better for Ace not to have to live with the stigma that would come with a relationship between the two of them, even on the off chance that Ace would be interested. Their family would probably be supportive, but society did not look kindly on such doings. Especially with the age difference; it was just too stereotypical. Marco wouldn't have Ace labeled as a good-for-nothing gaycat*.

Even during the warm up period, Ace and Izo clearly outshined Thatch and his partner. Their footwork was impeccable, and they seemed to be able to read each other's mind, swinging around the dance floor, switching hands and direction without a single fumble.

Marco felt a pang of jealousy at just how well they danced together, moving completely in sync, but ruthlessly shoved it aside. He didn't even like to dance. The music started speeding up slightly, signaling the real start of the competition. Thatch went first, spinning his dame around and showing off some fancy footwork, their hands still linked though she faced away from him.

They were both excellent dancers, and Marco found himself unsure that Ace and Izo would have as easy a win as they clearly expected. Their turn ended with Thatch catching the girl as she dropped into the splits on the ground tossing her back on her feet, eliciting applause from the audience, before falling back into the basic step. Thatch yelled something at Ace and Izo, presumably a challenge.

Marco shook his head. He already had Ace and Izo mad at him for his insensitive comments and both were highly competitive. Taunting them now was only adding oil to the fire. He saw Izo murmur something in Ace's ear. Ace nodded, and Marco swore he heard his laugh even over the crowd's cheers.

Ace still had the cocky grin on his face as he signaled the conductor to double the tempo. Never missing a step, even as the beat speed up, he and Izo began the most intricate footwork Marco had ever seen, all the while whirling and swinging each other around. Somehow regardless of how quickly they moved, they never failed to catch each other's hand at the right moment.

Ace swung Izo up and gave him enough momentum to flip over Ace's shoulders, where he spun while upside down, and caught Ace's shoulders to slow his fall. Instead of landing behind Ace, however, he used his momentum to slide between Ace's legs where Ace caught him and lifted him back up. Marco watched in awe as they completed the acrobatics perfectly. He found himself idly wondering how Izo managed to keep his skirt down.

They instantly slid back into the dance, feet moving so fast they almost blurred. The audience was roaring in approval as Thatch's jaw dropped open as he stood still, completely forgetting that he was also supposed to be dancing, despite his partner's attempts to remind him. Even the conductor looked impressed, and he signaled the band to go even faster. Ace and Izo kept pace with the music, but in addition to all the fancy footwork, Ace now swung Izo through all sorts of acrobatics, barely allowing him to take a few steps before lifting him back up into another flip.

Marco was in awe by how easily Ace was able to toss Izo around. He knew Ace was strong; they trained together frequently, after all, being some of the only commanders to prefer hand-to-hand fighting, but it was one thing to fight with him and another thing to watch him fling another human being around as if they weighed nothing.

The entire bar had gone quiet, apart from the music, as everyone watched the impressive display. The conductor gave the signal for the end of the song, and Ace and Izo froze in perfect form on the last beat. Silence fell over the speakeasy, before the the audience roared in approval. Marco made a mental note to ensure the soundproofing had successfully muffled the cheers, or to find some excuse for the noise. There were limits to what he could get the cops to ignore.

Ace grinned triumphantly at Izo. Both were breathing heavily. Izo smiled back, chuckling when he saw Thatch still frozen in shock. His partner had long given up and left in a huff, leaving the unresponsive man to go to complain to her friends.

"Well, I think we won," Izo said, snickering, "Thank you. I really needed that."

"I still have no idea why we're having this competition in the first place, but after what he said about you not being 'an appropriate dancing partner' and that I only chose you because no one else would dance with me, we really had to go all out."

Izo snorted. "He is unbelievable sometimes, that's for sure."

"I can't believe how oblivious he is! Can't he see how much it hurts you when he says stuff like that. I mean, it is pretty obvious you're-" Izo clapped a hand over Ace's mouth.

"Don't you dare finish that!" Izou hissed. He took a deep breath and removed his hand. Ace immediately felt horrible, since the haunted look had returned to his eyes.

"Sorry, Izo."

"Don't worry about it." Izo smiled at him and brushed off his apology. He raised a brow. "But you're the very last person who should be mocking someone else for being blind to someone's feelings."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Nothing, really. You're just the strangest combination of perceptive and completely blind." Izo looked at him with an indulgent expression and patted him on the head condescendingly.

Ace blinked and was about to pry further when the band struck up another song. He and Izo made their way to the almost recovered Thatch and dragged him off the dance floor.

"I have something to look into before tomorrow morning, so I will be going now." Izo hugged Ace, completely ignoring Thatch, who was silently watching them. "Thank you for such an entertaining evening."

Ace returned the hug, a bit surprised at the uncommon show of affection, then smiled at him. "Good luck."

Izo winked, then turned and wound his way through the crowd, disappearing quickly.

"I- you and Izo... are you- what-" Thatch shook his head. "I mean, how long have you been able to dance like that?"

"I don't know. He's been training me at least once a week pretty much since I joined the family."

"Once a week..." Thatch muttered to himself, before clapping Ace's shoulder "I have to go ask him something. I'll see you later."

Ace stared after him, a bit baffled but then shrugged. Maybe he wanted dance lessons too. He headed back to Pops's table.

Marco gritted his teeth in annoyance. If he had to listen to one more light skirt* compliment Ace's dancing skills and make subtle (and not so subtle) innuendos about what else he might be good at, he was going to have to kill someone. Thankfully, Ace was heedless of the undertones, and the most acknowledgement they got was confusion for the particularly blunt ones that even Ace couldn't help but notice didn't fit in with the rest of the conversation.

His other consolation was that Izo wasn't here to witness this. At least he was spared his knowing looks from across the table. Izo's amused look at Marco, when he'd nonchalantly hugged Ace, was quite enough to deal with for one night. Perhaps Thatch would manage to distract him enough to keep him from meddling overmuch.

He was pretty sure Pops had noticed his irritation and the reason for it, as well, but Marco was too exhausted to even care. He wouldn't say anything unless Marco asked for advice anyways. Marco noticed one light skirt's hand inching up Ace's thigh. Ace had noticed and looked perplexed and uncomfortable. Marco opened his mouth to say something he'd surely regret, but before he could, a man suddenly exploded into the room, slamming the door hard enough to quiet everyone down.

"Doctor! Now!" He gasped out the words, panting from running. "Marco's office."

Several people from the medical teams jumped up and started running to the door. Marco leapt to his feet along with everyone else at their table. Jozu and Vista started ushering people out while the others distric bosses headed with Pops to the the top floor of the building.

Marco arrived first to the scene, with Ace on his heels, and paused in shock in the doorway. Izo lied facedown on the floor of his office, a pool of blood surrounding him. He looked deathly pale as Thatch frantically applied pressure to the stab wound in his back, blood covering his hands, while the medical staff buzzed around.

**The dance is based off of the Lindy Hop, a popular swing dance in the 1920s. I will post a video on tumblr, if you're curious. My description doesn't really do it justice XD **

**The El*- local passenger train in Chicago, named because much of it is elevated**

**Glad rags* - fancy clothes for going out on the town**

**Hoity-toity*- fancy or snobby**

**Juice joint (or joint)* - another word for speakeasy. Basically a bar.**

**Ward politicians*- Politicians that are in charge of districts of Chicago. They were famous for corruption at this time. They will be the Shibukai, though I think the number is off. They were heavily involved in gang activity and gangs ensured they got re-elected through various means, such as ballot stuffing (exactly what is sounds like, putting extra ballots in the voting box)**

**Pro skirt*- A prostitute**

**Panther piss* - A term for whiskey because they had such poor quality during Prohibition **

**Coppers*- Police**

**Put the screws to him* - Question for information**

**Sap* - Fool**

**Doll*- A pretty woman**

**Ankle* - to walk**

**Pitching woo*- to flirt**

**Sheba*- a hot woman**

**Skirt*- woman**

**Dame*- A woman**

**Flapper*- A woman who wore short skirts (calf lengthed), a modern woman**

**Gaycat* - a young punk who often hangs around an older criminal, implies a homosexual relationship. Most likely the origin of the use of gay to mean homosexual.**

**Light skirt* - prostitute **


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, sorry it took so long to update. I really didn't mean to leave you on a bit of a cliffhanger for almost two months OTL Thank you to imperialmint for (mostly) nonviolently encouraging me to write this and for looking it over 3**

The room, bustling with life mere moments ago, was oppressively silent now, empty except for the grim-faced district commanders and a solemn Pops. Everyone had been called in to await news of Izo's condition. The two vacant chairs at the table were an ominous reminder of the reason they were all here, waiting to hear from Thatch whether their brother was alive or not. The portentous atmosphere was driving Marco slowly mad, but there was nothing to say until they knew more about Izo's condition and what had happened.

Finally Pops shifted slightly, drawing everyone's attention immediately to Thatch making his way across the room to report. Tension built around the table as he picked his way over, his solemn expression not giving anything away. Thatch collapsed in his chair, not meeting any of their eyes.

"He's alive, for now at least," Thatch said softly, cutting through the tension as everyone sighed in relief, "They said that provided it doesn't get infected, he ought to be fine." Thatch stared down at his hands, which still had dried blood under the nails, clenching them into fists. For awhile, no one spoke, allowing him to gather his thoughts, but eventually Pops broke the silence.

"What happened, son?"

"I-" He looked up and met everyone's eyes and took a deep breath. "I had gone to find Izo after the dance contest. I was going to ask- Well, that doesn't really matter." He shifted under the intensity of everyone's gaze. "He said something to Ace about having something to look into and left, but I thought he might still be in the building, so I-"

Thatch's voice faded from Marco's consciousness. He'd been after the traitor. The traitor that Marco had purposefully put of dealing with properly until tomorrow. Izo had gotten hurt because of his orders. If he'd only done something right then then maybe... Thatch paused and took a shuddering breath, staring at the dried blood marring his once pristine white shirt, pulling Marco's attention back to his recounting.

"The only place left to check was Marco's office. I thought it was empty too, until a weird noise caught my attention. He must have dropped something." Thatch closed his eyes. "I thought it was Izo of course, so I went in and called out. I turned towards the desk... and... it happened so quickly. I didn't really see it. He was about to stab me in the back, when Izo came out of no where and took the hit."

The last bit was rushed, as if he could barely say the words out loud. " Apparently, the bastard also hit him in the head and knocked him unconscious, so even though the knife just hit the muscles in his side, I thought... I really thought..." he choked out, then paused, unable to get the words out. Everyone waited respectfully, though Marco was ready to smack him if he didn't get to the point soon.

He almost laughed when he glanced to see how Ace was dealing with the wait. He was practically vibrating in his chair, ready to leap into action to exact vengeance. He sobered quickly at the thought of how he'd react when he heard it was most likely one of their own. Marco, though he realized it must have been the traitor who'd attacked Izo, still could not move beyond his shock at the betrayal. Marco cursed himself again for telling Izo to keep looking into it, taking in the grim expressions of his family around the table. Never before had something so disastrous happened, and the pain around the table cut into Marco like a knife.

Just as he was about to prompt Thatch to continue, unable to bear the recriminating silence any longer, Thatch looked up again. "It was Teach." The quiet words echoed in the vast room as the moment stretched agonizingly. Before Marco automatically looked at Ace, concerned about his reaction to hearing one of his own men was Izo's assailant.

"T-Teach?" Ace asked, eyes wide. "But he- he..."

His heart ached as he watched Ace's stunned disbelief morph into pain and rage at Teach's treachery. Marco clutched the edge of the table, knuckles turning white, as the commanders started murmuring amongst themselve. That expression should never be on Ace's face. If only he'd acted sooner, then maybe it wouldn't be there now. At least it would be easier on Ace if his subordinate were just a snitch and not a literal backstabber.

"Excuse me? I don't want to interrupt, but Izo is awake and wants to talk to Pops, Thatch, Marco, and Ace. He's in his room." The doctor slipped out as unobtrusively as he came in. Pops sighed, looking more tired than Marco had ever seen him. He actually looked old. The room quieted instantly.

"We will talk about this tomorrow, after everyone has had some rest. Be here at noon, and we'll decide how to handle it. For now, Izo is our priority." Everything in Marco wanted to protest the delay, but he was beaten to it.

"But Pops, we need to-"

"Ace," Pops said sternly, flicking his gaze to Marco, letting him know this admonition was for him too, "Your brother wants to see you. Family comes first. There is nothing for Teach to do until the morning anyway. The rest of you pass along word that he is not to be allowed in our territory, but don't to attack him, just inform me at once." The others nodded and filed out in solemn groups, talking in low voices as they left to fulfill orders, though Marco doubted any of them would be getting much sleep tonight.

Ace stood up, still ready to protest, but quietened when Marco rested a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Thatch looked at once eager and unbearably nervous as they somberly made their way to Izo. Marco began to have an inkling of just why he'd gone after Izo and smiled bitterly. At least something good might come of this.

* * *

Izo was propped up in his room, looking deathly pale in contrast with his dark robe. A bruise was beginning to bloom across his right temple, but considering they had thought he was dead a couple hours ago, Ace was just glad to see him awake. And really annoyed. He was still reeling from the announcement that Teach was the perpetrator. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

Pops looked over at him knowingly, warning clear in his eyes. Ace took a deep breath and smiled at Izo, trying to shove down his rage. He knew Izo was more important, but now that he knew he was okay, taking down that bastard should be number one priority. It was his responsibility, and he would take care of it and prove he had earned his place in the family so that even Marco wouldn't worry about him completing his jobs properly.

"It took you long enough!" Izo tapped his fingers on his bedding, glaring at the four men. Ace really admired the way Izo could so easily cow the strongest men he knew. Not that he wasn't as well, but when it was not just directed at him, his amusement at seeing Marco and Pops look so abashed tempered it a bit. Izo noticed his lack of contrition and glared at him, making him muffle a giggle.

"We had to keep Ace from haring off to go kill Teach," Thatch said. Izo sighed, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Really, Ace I would have thought we'd taught you some common sense by now. At least find out why first."

"I know all I need to about-" he began angrily, stopping when he saw Pop's disappointed expression, "Sorry." Izo smiled at him reassuringly.

"I appreciate the sentiment. You're so protective; it's cute." Ace blushed, and Izo laughed, wincing as it pulled the wound in his side.

"How are you feeling, son?" Pops glanced at Ace, who looked down on the floor.

"I'm fine. It barely even scratched me." Izo waved off his injuries lazily, though since all of them had seen how much blood he'd lost, Ace wasn't sure why he bothered. "I'm not like this sap* here. " Izo gestured to Thatch, who glared indignantly at him.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't even notice when someone's about to stick a knife in your back, and you have to ask that? You'd be dead if it weren't for me." Ace watched as they got closer and closer while they argued, until their noses were practically brushing. He automatically tried to catch Marco's eye as they usually did when Thatch and Izo were being particularly obvious, but Marco must have been lost in thought or something, since he didn't look up.

"Well, at least I don't purposely jump in front of one! What if you'd been there by yourself?"

"Then he never would have noticed I was there! If you hadn't come in-"

Pops laughed at their antics, cutting Izo off and making what little tension remained dissipate completely. Ace relaxed at the warm sound for the first time in hours. If Pops was laughing, it all somehow didn't seem so bad. Thatch and Izo backed away from each other sheepishly, the tips of Thatch's ears bright red. Ace frowned when Marco still didn't meet his gaze and nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

He stared and looked at Ace questioningly, smiling weakly in response to Ace's concerned expression. Marco cleared his throat.

"Izo, I take it you had something to report besides how much better you are that Thatch at dodging knives, yoi?" Marco asked.

"Hey!" Everyone ignored Thatch's protest, the lighthearted atmosphere fading at Marco's question. Izo straightened in his bed.

"Yes. Teach was after documents that showed the locations of all of our operations, our supply chains, basically anything that could be used to take the family down. He has them now. Whoever he's working with, someone's planning on taking us out completely." He paused to let the seriousness of the situation sink in before he continued.

"I wasn't able to find out who he's working with thanks to _someone_, which makes that priority number one." He glared at Ace. "Not finding him and bumping him off.*"

Ace nodded with the rest, inwardly vowing to do some investigating of his own tonight. He couldn't help it if he just found the bastard, while wandering the streets, after all. He might not mind being treated at the younger brother most of the time, but he was a member of this family too, and he would deal with his own responsibilities.

The doctor knocked on the door and entered.

"He really ought to rest now. Just a few more minutes." As quickly as he came, he was gone again. Izo scowled then sighed. "Marco, I'll need to see you as soon as you wake up. It's important." Marco raised a brow and nodded, still quiet. Ace would be a bit concerned if Izo smirked at him like that, but Marco seemed to have no qualms.

"Fine, the rest of you out. I need to talk to Ace," Izo said, then grinned apologetically. "Well, you can stay Pops." Whitebeard laughed and ushered Thatch and an unprotesting Marco out of the room. Thatch looked back as Izo gestured for Ace to take the chair at his bedside.

"But what-"

"Don't worry, son, I know when I'm not wanted," Whitebeard said to Izo, laughing, "Let them have their privacy, Thatch." He closed the door firmly behind them, cutting Thatch off in midsquawk.

Their eyes met, and Ace was unable to prevent himself from laughing. "He doesn't think we're..."

"Nah, he's just messing with Thatch and Marco." Izo chuckled quietly, trying not to aggravate his wound. He sobered quickly though,

"Whatever you're planning about finding the two-faced rat bastard, you better give it up now Ace. You're not ready to take down him and whoever's really behind this." Ace bristled at the implication and stood up suddenly, pacing agitatedly in front of the bed.

"What, you don't think I'm capable? It's my job, Izo. I won't hand it off to someone else because you all want to baby me."

"This isn't a job for one person, Ace. Please just wait until tomorrow. Pops won't leave you out of the plan."

"But-"

"Did you notice anything off about Marco just now?" Ace blinked, caught off guard by the change of topic. He stopped pacing, curiosity outweighing common sense. Izo never changes topic without a reason.

"Well, yeah, but what-"

"That idiot probably blames himself for what happened. I'd just told him that we had a snitch, and he put off dealing with it until we had more facts to give Pops." Ace's eyes widened. "Which is ridiculous, really. Clearly, it's all Thatch's fault." Ace bit back a smile.

"Clearly," Ace said, still fighting a grin at Izo's affronted tone, "but what does that have to do with before?"

Izo sighed. "Well, for one thing, how do you think Marco would feel if you went off and got hurt?"

"Why would he feel guilty about that? It's not like it would be his fault." Izo smiled at him indulgently.

"You sad little bunny*." Ace scowled at him, crossing his arms.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Izo smirked infuriatingly. "Anyway, I need you to watch out for him. He tends to beat himself up when he thinks he's to blame."

Ace remembered how quiet Marco had been, not even acknowledging Thatch's and Izo's funny byplay.

"Still can't promise anything. Marco will be fine. It's not like I'd get hurt anyway." Izo snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Not even as a favor for me? I'm hurt, you know." Ace wavered briefly then glared at him indignantly.

"That's why I would hypothetically go!" Izo sighed, then smiled slyly.

"Very well. Do what you think is right. The doctor will be here soon and there is clearly no changing your hypothetical decision." Ace blinked. A triumphant grin spread across his face, clapping a hand lightly on Izo's shoulder before turning to the door.

"Don't worry, Izo. I'll be careful. Well, at least a little." He turned the doorknob but paused before opening the door when Izo sighed. Ace glanced back over his shoulder, only to be disturbed at the glint in Izo's eyes. He suddenly felt trapped.

"I guess Marco will never think you're grown up." Ace frowned, spinning all the way back around.

"What do you mean by that?" Ace asked suspiciously, not believing the innocent smile Izo gave him for a second.

"Well, to him, it would be completely childish and immature of you to disobey Pops because of a whim. Especially when the whole family is at stake." Ace huffed and turned back to the door, opening it quickly this time.

"Who cares what that stuffy old bird* thinks?" Ace slammed the door closed a bit harder than necessary, earning himself a glare from the doctor who was indeed on his way to kick Izo's visitors out.

* * *

Marco cursed and knocked loudly on the door once again. It was midmorning, but there was no sign of life in the shabby apartment Ace shared with his brother. He rested his head against the unmoving door, wondering what the hell he was doing here. He'd gone to see Izo as requested, only to be practically shoved out the door to go fetch Ace. Apparently, Izo went to pick up Ace every time they had training or a meeting in the morning, since otherwise he wouldn't be on time.

Just about the last thing Marco wanted to do right now was to wake Ace up, even though Izo had laughingly assured him that Luffy always woke up Ace, and he never came out in his robe. Marco had protested feebly but leaving seemed preferable to enduring the teasing Izo would give him if he'd stayed. Besides, he'd never visited Ace before, and he had to admit he was a bit curious. Regardless, apparently someone had to drag him to the meeting.

Marco froze. What if the reason no one opened the door was that Ace had gone after Teach last night? He might have never made it home. His brother didn't necessarily have to be home. The house could be empty, and Ace could be lying in some alley somewhere, bleeding out just like he had all of those years ago, only with no Pops to save him. He resumed his pounding on the door with a frantic air this time. Marco was just about to snap the lock off the door, when a cool voice behind him made him spin around defensively.

"You can knock all you like, but those two dunderheads will never answer." Marco relaxed slightly at the resignation in the man's tone. Clearly, the man knew Ace. He carefully studied the tall blond man and the two beautiful dames with him. The all seemed perfectly relaxed and friendly, but Marco was not blind to the thorough albeit covert inspection all three were giving him. The chilly smile he got from the raven haired woman alone was enough to put him on his guard. Their get ups* were all at the height of fashion, but perhaps more suited for evening wear than a morning visit.

"I'm Sanji. These two beautiful angels are Nami," Sanji said, somehow managing to bow low and gesture to the orange haired girl, despite carrying several large bags, "and Robin." A different fluttering gesture marked out the woman whose smile sent chills down Marco's spine. Sanji straightened, cold blue eyes meeting Marco's, belaying the genial tone. "You must be from Ace's gang?"

"Yes, I'm Marco. Izo sent me," Marco said and watched in amusement as that was instantly met with warm smiles. "I take it you know Luffy?"

"You could say that," Nami said, smirking as she casually walked up and opened the door. Marco blinked.

"It was unlocked." Marco said numbly, and Nami and Robin casually strolled in.

"Yeah, neither of those two shitheads ever remembers to lock the door," Sanji said, "Even Nami has given up on beating them into it." He balanced all of the bags in one arm and almost reverently traced one of three roughly carved pirate insignias on the door, as they passed, smiling brightly. Marco smirked, easily recognizing Ace's former gang symbol as one of the three.

"The idiots think this is all they need to keep anyone from breaking in," Sanji said, though pride rang through his tone instead of scorn. Marco looked around the small parlour they entered first in curiously, surprised that it was clean. He didn't know what he was picturing exactly, but it certainly was the worn but serviceable sofa and chairs around a scarred coffee table, free of clutter. Mismatched bookshelves stuffed full of every sort of book imaginable covered the walls. Sanji followed Marco's baffled gaze to the small library.

"We have no idea about those either. Never seen either of them touch one. Someone comes into clean, and the ladies bought most of the furniture, " he said, leading Marco into the kitchen.

Nami and Robin were already at the table that took up almost all of the floor space, talking softly. Sanji went to the counter, dropped off all of his bags, and started unpacking amazingly quickly.

"Just take a seat over here, Marco," Nami said, kicking out the chair across from her. Marco frowned, hesitating. Though he could hear snoring faintly from the hall, he would really like to confirm Ace was here and safe.

"Shouldn't we wake them up?" he said.

"You don't need to worry, Mr. Commander," Robin said, "This is the fastest way to wake them up." Marco sat down, glancing towards the hall, then back at the relaxed group, doubtfully. Robin chuckled, and Nami smirked at him.

"I take it Izo didn't tell you anything?" Nami asked.

"He just said to come pick Ace up at ten. I didn't know there was a usual procedure," Marco said dryly. He would have to have words with Izo when he got back. Though, at least, this explained the smug expression he had on this morning when he asked, or ordered, Marco to go. He forced himself to relax, watching as Sanji heated up a skillet and chopped potatoes impossibly quickly.

"Oh, we do this every morning," Nami said, tilting her head, "Well, at least the three of us. The others come occasionally. I think Izo normally only comes for the food and company."

"Then why-" Marco began, as Sanji dropped bacon into the now piping hot pan. Before he could get another word out, a boy appeared out of nowhere in the doorway, wearing only a pair of red-and-white striped boxers*.

"Meat? Is it breakfast time? Sanji, I'm hungry," the boy whined. Marco raised a brow, but no one else seemed the least bit surprised. Nami rolled her eyes slightly and kept talking with Robin about whether she needed a new hair ribbon, as if nothing scandalous was occurring.

Sanji said, "It's almost done, Luffy. Go get Ace." Sanji flipped a pancake up in the air, spun around and kicked Luffy hard in the stomach, turning back in time to catch the pancake perfectly in the middle of the pan. "Put some damn clothes on next time! The precious ladies don't need to see that."

Luffy skipped back into the hall, laughing cheerfully, as if he hadn't just been hit by a kick that would double most men over in pain. Marco had to fight hard to keep his usual indifferent expression. He thought their family was strange, but this was on a whole new level. A cup and saucer was set in front of him, startling out of his bemusement.

"Tea or coffee?" Sanji asked, deftly pouring Nami's tea and Robin's coffee at the same time.

"Tea, thank you," Marco said, impressed at the amount of food that had appeared on the counter while he'd been distracted by other things. Sanji poured then set both pots back on the counter. Marco found himself curious why nothing but the cups was put on the table yet, but the way the morning was going, he decided there was most likely a good reason for it and kept a watchful eye on his cup.

"Luffy, what the fuck?" Ace yelled from down the hall. Again no one seemed perturbed, so Marco just enjoyed the peace he felt finally hearing Ace's voice. Even though Izo had seemed pretty certain that he'd convinced Ace not to go, Marco still couldn't help but worry until he got confirmation that he was safe. Well, apart from whatever Luffy had done to him. Strange thumps and muffled curses floated down the hallway, making Marco bit back a relieved grin.

"It's going to be one of those days, huh," Nami said, sipping her tea.

"Those bastards. They'll never learn how to act in front of the ladies, " Sanji growled, plating what looked like 20 omelets.

"I do hope they don't break their necks," Robin said calmly, "That would be most unfortunate."

"One of what days?" Marco asked, as the noises grew louder. Before anyone could explain, Luffy came darting in the room, Ace hot on his heels, both in the same state of undress, though Ace's boxers were a soft orange instead of red. Marco gaped unwillingly at Ace's exposed torso and legs, the image branding itself into his memory. He groaned inwardly. He didn't need this. His mind flashed back to Izo's smug smirk, and he cursed himself for believing the reason for it would be as simple as meeting Luffy's strange friends. Ace never came out in his robe, indeed. He was going to kill Izo.

Ace chased Luffy around the table several times, before finally tackling him. Nami and Robin picked up their cups and saucers just in time for Ace and Luffy to crash onto the table. Marco's crashed to the floor, splashing him with hot tea. He didn't notice, too begrudgingly focused on Ace's rippling muscles to pay attention to minor burns. He had never seen Ace without a shirt before, much less only in _boxers_ of all things. Though if he'd let himself wonder, he would have thought Ace would be the type to wear boxer shorts.

Ace pinned Luffy to the table, smirking down at him, before tickling him ruthlessly. Marco was going to kill Izo. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking away. Nami sighed and muttered something quietly to Robin, who just took a sip of her coffee, chuckling, as Sanji yelled at them for messing up "his" kitchen and disturbing the ladies, efficiently cleaning up Marco's cup before he'd fully processed it had broken.

His punishment finally doled out to his satisfaction Ace looked up, freezing when he caught sight of Marco, wide eyed.

"Marco?" Ace cocked his head to the side, still on his hands and knees on the table. Marco could only be grateful he hadn't landed with his ass in his face. He looked away from Ace, meeting Robin's knowing gaze. She smiled at him, and he looked away quickly. Izo was bad enough.

"What are you doing here?" Ace asked.

"Izo told me I had to come wake you up, since he couldn't, yoi" Marco said mechanically.

"But he never wakes me up..."Ace said and frowned in thought, then lit up in obvious comprehension. He glanced guiltily at Marco, who was caught between horror and curiosity, wondering what reason Izo could have possibly given Ace that would explain why he wanted Marco to see this scene. It was probably better not to think about it. Ace released Luffy and slid off the table, bare leg brushing Marco's on the way down, and stood directly in front of him.

"Well, it's nice to have you here, regardless," Ace said grinning. Marco swallowed hard, finding it even more difficult to keep his habitual expression than it had been before, and they all sat down to what must have been the strangest meal of Marco's life. Other than Sanji's occasional cutting remarks, no one mentioned or even seemed aware that it was at all odd for Ace and Luffy to be eating breakfast undressed. The mood was lively, everyone talking and joking over each other and even Marco had taken to casual violence to keep Luffy from stealing his food, though he lost a bit due to his lack of focus.

He kept fairly quiet, only responding when addressed directly, trying to keep his scattered thoughts together. Luckily watching Ace and Luffy eat was a distraction in and of itself. Marco finally understood why Sanji had made enough food for thirty people, though how he did it so fast was yet another mystery about these people. He'd seen Ace eat before of course, but it seemed having his brother there only encouraged him. Marco let a fond smile escape as he watched Ace laugh and eat with Luffy and his friends, ignoring Robin's and later Nami's blatant observation. He even caught Sanji watching him a couple of times.

As the meal came to an end, Luffy cocked his head and stared at Marco, seemingly noticing him for the first time.

"Hey, Ace," Luffy said.

"What is it, Lu?" Ace said, helping Sanji stack up the plates and carry them to the sink.

"Isn't this the man who you always have to dress properly around?" Luffy asked, "And want to be responsive for?" Marco froze, cursing as Nami and Robin stared at him giggling.

"You mean respectable, Lu. And yeah, Marco's my-" Ace stopped abruptly, plates still in hand, staring down at himself in shock. He made a strangled noise and blushed bright red, and Marco really did not need to know how far Ace's rare blushes extended. Ace thrust the plates in Sanji's general direction, not bothering to respond to his angry curses as he caught every one of them in an impressive show of dexterity. Ace looked at Marco in horrified apology, already grabbing Luffy and almost out of the door.

"Why the hell did none of you say anything?" Ace demanded, "Traitors!"

"I did say something. Several times," Sanji said, calmly washing the dishes.

"No, Lu, not like that," Ace said quietly. Marco frowned

"You don't count!" Luffy said, laughing, "You always say something, so why would Ace notice?" Before Sanji could go kick some sense into them, Nami asked him for more tea.

"How we were supposed to know Marco was special? You do it every other morning with everyone else and no shame," Nami asked coyly, her eyes darting mischievously to Marco when she said his name.

"Indeed, it is interesting you have such a different reaction to your commander," Robin said, smirking at Marco, who groaned inwardly. Wasn't he punished enough with Izo? He was suddenly terrified by the thought that Izo frequently ate breakfast with Nami and Robin. Nothing good could come from the three of them together on a semi-regular basis.

"He's not exactly my- Luffy, it doesn't go like that," Ace said, laughing

"Yours is wrong too!" Luffy said petulantly, "That goes on the top half!"

"It does not!" Ace retorted. Nami and Robin snickered, then Robin sighed, smiled fondly, and got up.

"It seems they might require some assistance. One would think they would understand it by now," she said. Nami kept laughing at the increasingly loud and ridiculous argument. Marco wondered vaguely what part of a suit they couldn't figure out what was supposed to cover. He didn't think he'd ever be surprised by anything again after this morning.

"No, Robin, let me do it," Sanji protested, drying his hands.

"No, thank you, but you have enough to do, and it would be nice if our captain wasn't completely incapacitated. Last time you tied him up in ties." With that, Robin left, making the argument end instantly.

Moments later, Ace appeared in the door, perfectly dressed, hair in complete disorder. Marco fought back a smile at the sight.

"Umm... Marco, I'm-" Ace began.

"Ready to go, yoi?" Marco asked calmly, trying not to bask in the warmth of Ace's grateful smile as Nami looked on in amusement.

**My phone keeps asking me if I want to continue to research the history of men's underwear because of this chapter XD**

**sap*- fool, idiot**

**to bump someone off* - to kill someone**

**bunny* - someone who is lost or confused**

**bird* - a way to refer to a person in general**

**get ups*- outfits**

**boxers*- Yes, I know all of you know what boxers are, but they had just been invented in the 20s and were not very popular- even a bit scandalous. First of all, at bare minimum to see even close friends, men would wear three layers, underwear (which normally covered what a tshirt and shorts would, then long legged and sleeved pajamas and then a robe that was ankle length. So Marco had reason to be a bit shocked XD**

**I hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Today is exactly three months since I posted this (my first post too), so I thought I'd update it in celebration. Thanks for all your support. It's been a fun three months!**

Marco had been unable to prevent himself from gently taming Ace's wild tangle of hair with his fingers once they were outside. Ace, of course, just ginned sheepishly, blushing slightly and thanked him carelessly, before apologising once again for his appearance that morning. Marco must have managed to answer him satisfactorily as after that they fell into a companionable silence while making the long trek back to the Moby Dick, which, while ensuring he didn't have any new material for him to obsess over, gave him too much time to mull over this morning.

Instead he went over in his head the plan that Pops and he had spent what had remained of the evening going over, looking for holes that could be addressed before it was announced before training today. No sooner had his mind turned to darker thoughts, when Ace nudged him lightly on his arm, shoulder brushing his, warmth flooding Marco at the brief contact.

Ace looked up at him, concern obvious in his eyes, and Marco smiled. Ace returned the smile with a brilliant grin, immediately launching into an inane story of his brother stealing meat from his unsuspecting friends. Marco allowed the story to wash over him, enjoying the moment as Ace laughed and chattered, glancing up at Marco as if to make sure he was not dwelling overmuch. Marco relented and let himself to be cheered up, at least until they made it to the Moby Dick, unable to resist the pleading looks thrown his way every so often.

Izo, at his own insistence, was present at the meeting, though the doctor had protested vehemently when Pops had allowed it. He was pale still but had returned Marco's glare with an innocent smile, smirking when he saw how closely Ace walked to him and waved Ace over. Ace grabbed the chair next to Izo, pulling it even closer, so they could whisper to each other, which they immediately took advantage of, Ace flushing at whatever Izo's opening comment was, shaking his head vehemently.

Marco feigned ambivalence and sat next to Pops, on the other side of the table, ignoring amused glances from both Pops and Izo. The rest of the commanders came straggling in, bleary eyed and looking as tired as he felt. The only two who looked the least bit awake were the two gossips. Marco couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the frequent glances towards him he had no doubt he had something to do with the topic of conversation. Finally, everyone was there, and Marco called them to order, glaring at the two miscreants.

His scowl faded when Izo laughed at him, grimacing as the movement pulled at his wounds and starting to cough. Ace looked on with concern, clearly itching to help but unable to do so. Marco shook himself and looked up at Pops, who nodded.

"We've decided for now to remain on the defensive for the most part," Pops said amidst groans and noises of disapproval, causing Pops to chuckle. "I said for the most part, brats. All shipments are to be moved. Izo will pass out the schedule. Implement them as quickly as possible to avoid raids. We have no idea who Teach's working for, so expect anything from police raids to arson attempts."

Marco met Ace's furious gaze and smiled. He mouthed "wait for it" and was pleasantly surprised by when Ace settled down almost immediately, still tense, but waiting to listen almost patiently, though Izo's arrogant smile at the interaction made Marco want to smack him. If it weren't for his wounds, Izo would pay in training today for all he had done since proving to himself that Marco indeed had feelings for Ace. He was smart enough to figure out why Marco held back, so he should just let the situation lie.

Marco cleared his throat. "In addition, guard duty will be doubled on the Moby Dick and Pops, yoi," he said, ignoring Pops, who rolled his eyes at the thought that he needed protection. It had been the only part they had disagreed on. "My division and Ace's will take care of that, while we're dealing with other things." Ace's eyes shot to his, and he relaxed somewhat, still watching Marco carefully.

"After training, Ace and I will begin trying to locate the traitor and find out his objective and partners. In addition, word will be passed out to our more discreet allies, who will also begin quietly gathering information. This isn't a situation we should rush into, yoi." Marco almost smiled at Ace's wide-eyed shock at being included. "All other divisions will stick to their usual territories. It goes without saying that you should be on your guard, yoi."

"Training will be held as usual today, yoi. We'll start in ten minutes, so if you need to pass along any orders do so now." Grumbling met this announcement, and Marco looked to Pops to see if he had anything to add.

"Remember what is most important, brats. Keeping our family safe is the only thing that matters, so train hard, so you can protect your brothers. We'll get through this together." Pops's gaze rested briefly on Izo. "Be careful, all of you." He nodded, dismissing them. There was a flurry of activity as everyone rushed to get everything in order before training began. Ace got up to come over to Marco, probably to find out what he was supposed to order his men to do, but Izo tugged him back down and whispered something to Ace.

Marco tried not to glower as he watched a wide range of emotions cross Ace's face before settling on a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. It could not possibly bode well for Marco. Pops laughed at him and clapped him on the back as he settled in to watch them train.

"Izo's up to no good again? What did he do to get you in such a foul mood, even after spending the morning with Ace?" he said to Marco, quietly enough so no one else could hear. Marco sighed and shook his head, tapping his fingers agitatedly on the table as Ace finally made his way over, looking far more thoughtful than Marco liked. The day was only getting longer.

* * *

Ace watched as some of his brothers set up the targets and laid out the mats. They always used the speakeasy since it was big enough to hold all of them, though Marco complained that there were too many bullet holes to fix by the stage. Pops always laughed it off, saying it added "character". Marco had already given orders to his division, not bothering to wait for Ace to do it. Part of him was a bit miffed about that, but he could hardly complain that Marco didn't trust him when he was taking him on their most important mission. Maybe he did think he was a little bit competent.

It had been worth listening to Izo's warning, even if it did make Izo insufferably smug when he came in this morning to find out he had just gone home last night. When Ace had put the screws to him* to find out what obvious thing he kept insisting Ace was missing, Izo just gave him a cryptic smile and told him he'd better pay attention in training today. Ace frowned, examining every part of the scene with attention to detail. Izo had gone back upstairs, albeit unwillingly, so he'd get no more clues from him. A swat to the back of the head made him yelp and turn toward Marco.

"What was that for?" Ace asked, rubbing the back of his head, glaring at him.

"Stop woolgathering, and let's get started," Marco said, "You do want to go after Teach, sometime today, don't you?" Ace scowled, following Marco over to one of the mats. The other commanders were either pairing up to spar or lining up on their makeshift gun range. The sound of guns and fighting swallowed up the opportunity for Ace to respond, so he scowled exaggeratedly and lunged toward Marco without warning, aiming a punch at his jaw.

Marco dodged easily, as Ace had known he would, but he caught Ace's blow towards his stomach, easily seeing through the feint. He kept hold of Ace's arm, twisting it behind his back painfully. Ace shifted his balance and threw Marco over his hip, cursing when Marco landed perfectly, smirking at him. At least he'd gotten free.

They circled each other warily, eyes locked on each other for any warning of the next move.

Finally, Marco smirked at him, and said, "What, brat, scared already?" Ace snarled and leapt forward again, almost instantly thrown back as Marco landed a painful kick on his left side. Ace scrambled up, pride injured more than anything else, trying to regain his dignity. This time he waited patiently for an opening, letting Marco's taunts wash over him this time. This time when he attacked, Marco blocked his punch, and they traded a flurry of blows back and forth. Approval shined from Marco's eyes when Ace managed to break through his defense and warmed Ace.

He let his triumph distract him too much though, and he soon found himself on the ground once more this time pinned down with Marco on top of him, grinning down at him.

"You did much better, yoi." Ace struggled, trying to find some purchase, but it was no use. He relaxed slightly, hoping to lure Marco into slackening his grip on his wrists. If he could just push up with his elbows a bit, he could twist his hips a bit and get the leverage needed to flip them over. He looked up at his captor, panting slightly, surprised at how near they were. Marco's eyes were so blue from this close; he found himself staring into them, smiling softly at the praise to make Marco think he'd surrendered. Something in Marco's gaze shifted, and Ace's mind flashed back to Izo's hint.

Marco's grip slackened just enough for Ace to flip them, and Ace took full advantage of it, straddling his thighs and pinning his arms to his sides. He grinned, revealing in his small victory. He watched Marco's reaction carefully, sure that Izo couldn't possibly have been hinting that Marco liked him but unable to shake the thought from his mind.

"How's this for better, old man?" Ace asked and smirked down at Marco, their faces only inches apart. Again Ace saw something flicker in Marco's eyes, as he stared up at him, stunned. It couldn't be. Ace's eyes were drawn automatically to Marco's lips before he caught himself. Ace's cheeks felt like they were on fire. What the hell was he thinking? He shook his head. He immediately let Marco up, backing away as quickly as possible. Marco frowned at him as he sat up, obviously puzzled at his retreat.

"Trying to quit while you're ahead, brat? It doesn't count if you do that." Marco raised a brow at him, then looked around the room. "Well, training won't be over for a while, but since you did so well, why don't we go ahead and go? Pops was adamant we still train, but he'll have seen how well you did today." Ace nodded dumbly, still cursing himself and Izo as Marco got up and made his way over to Pops.

Ace looked around the room frantically. There must be something else Izo had meant. Nothing caught his eye as he desperately searched for something, anything else. He met Pops's gaze and froze at the sight of his knowing grin.. All sorts of little details were making connections in his head, all the times Marco helped him, how Marco always caught his eyes as soon as he entered even the most crowded of rooms, how much Marco worried even when he was sent on simple tasks.

Maybe he didn't think he was incompetent at all, maybe... Ace shook his head vehemently, trying to dislodge such foolish thoughts. Pops winked at Ace from across the room, continuing his conversation with Marco without pause. Ace gaped at him, his cheeks burning.

Well, then. Maybe there wasn't anything else to notice.

* * *

Marco snuck glances at Ace as they walked the crowded streets on their way to the less savory parts of town. He'd been surprisingly quiet since their sparring match, not bragging about his supposed victory or anything. He looked almost pensive, and that didn't sit well with Marco at all. To be fair, they were hunting a man Ace had trusted, a man he'd been good friends with, a man he'd led, and Marco knew it had to be hitting him hard that Teach had betrayed their family for power or money.

Hell, it hit him hard. He couldn't imagine how anyone could trade family for such meaningless things, but he was nowhere as near idealistic as Ace, or perhaps he was just a bit jaded. Marco nudged Ace gently with his shoulder as they walked along. Ace jumped, which was a bit strange, and looked at him questioningly.

"It will work out, Ace. We'll put a stop to whatever he's planning." Ace blinked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then smiled weakly and nodded.

"Where are we heading exactly? I mean, are we just going to look for him in the usual places scumbags hide, or...?" Ace trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

"I figured we'd look down at the docks first. What do you think? It's been awhile since I've hunted anyone down, and the usual places have probably changed."

"The docks are a good place to start," Ace said thoughtfully, " We can sweep south from there and-"

"Psst...Ace!" A man ducked out of an alley, taking them both by surprise. Marco was instantly on guard.

"Yasopp!" Ace greeted him cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

"The big cheese* wants to talk to you. Got some information for you about your little rat."

"And why exactly would he be willing to part with something so valuable?" Marco asked coolly, grabbing Ace's arm and pulling him away from Yasopp. "Thanks, but not even Ace is foolish enough to go with you with reasoning like that."

Ace and Yasopp looked puzzled for a second but burst into laughter when they met each other's gaze.

"You don't have to worry about us harming the boy, Phoenix. He's as safe in our territory as he is yours. Safer if recent events are taken into consideration." Marco glared at him, ready to snap at him when Ace stopped him by resting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine, Marco. Shanks is... well, he just wants to help." Ace looked up at him beseechingly. Marco narrowed his eyes, not at all happy that Ace had so much faith in another one of the four emperors, but sighed seeing Ace's determined expression.

"If I don't go with you, you'll just go as soon as we're done, won't you?" Ace looked a bit shamefaced but nodded slowly. Yasopp laughed, and Marco glared at him.

"There's nothing to worry about. The captain is only doing something like this because he heard it was Ace's man. Don't think we've gone soft on you or anything." Marco bristled at the implication that they were so close to Ace but forced himself to remain calm.

They followed Yasopp to a sketchy looking building on the borderline of Ace's district and the Red-haired gang's territory. Marco hadn't known that Ace had connections with them, or he'd have never given Ace the only district that bordered them. Nothing good came of being involved with Shanks. Marco shoved down thoughts of all the varied relationships Ace could possibly have with Shanks that would entitle him to free information and one of the higher ranking members to fetch him personally. Nothing good would come of that, and he really couldn't afford to lose his temper. Though Shanks would probably just laugh it off, his even temper could never be counted on.

They entered the juice joint*, and Yasopp immediately slipped away. Marco was instantly on guard, thinking it was a trap, but they were greeted by jovial cheers from the whole room. Ace went straight up to Shanks, who appeared to be ossified* already. Marco fought hard not to roll his eyes at the act.

"Ace! Good to see you!" Shanks ignored Marco and heartily shook Ace's hand. "How's Luffy?"

"Good to see you too! Luffy's the same as always." Ace laughed. "You know him." Everyone at the table laughed.

"We sure do! Still planning to rule the town one day?" Shanks asked, grinning. Marco looked back and forth between them, irritated at the easy way they talked and fighting down his annoyance with the whole ordeal. The others at his table discreetly left to give them privacy.

"Of course he is. You know him." Shanks chuckled, then his gaze shifted to Marco, amusement dancing in his eyes as watched Marco watch his hand on Ace's shoulder. Marco groaned inwardly, and Shanks grinned at him, feigning innocence.

"The famous Phoenix. It's been awhile. Have you reconsidered and decided to join us at last?" Marco scowled at him. Ace looked between the two curiously.

"No," Marco said.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," Ace said.

"Oh, we go way back, don't we Marco?" Shanks clapped Marco on the shoulder, pouting when he was forced to dodge a kick to the side.

"You're still no fun, Marco," Shanks said, "I was surprised you even bothered to come." He motioned them to sit and poured them generous servings of whiskey, looking at Ace mischievously. "You know, Marco here wasn't always a Mrs. Grundy*. He used to be-"

"That's quite enough of that, yoi," Marco said, "I'm just here because Ace insisted we hear you out."

"What, you're his nanny or something?" Shanks laughed. "If you knew how often the kid visited..." His turned to Ace. "Naughty brat, keeping things from your new family."

"I don't keep anything from them. What's there to say?" Ace frowned at Marco. "Plus it seems like you two know each other fairly well as well." Marco met Ace's questioning look evenly, sipping his whiskey calmly as he inwardly wondered at Ace's sharp tone.

"Oh..." Shanks said, "Isn't this interesting? Jealous I know your dear commander so well?" Marco almost spit out his drink, darting a glance to Ace to see how he took that, thinking he might not even notice the implication. Shock coursed through him when he saw Ace blushing slightly. He couldn't be...

"What did you have to tell us, Shanks?" Ace asked calmly, still a bit red in the face. Shanks sobered immediately, the room quieting at the change in Shank's demeanor.

"I've found out that your backstabbing bastard is working with none other than Akainu, next in line for chief of police. He thinks he can take over from Sengoku if he takes down one of the four emperor's gangs." Shanks paused, setting down his mug. "Of course, it's almost a given he will nab Teach as well, but Teach seems to think he's got it under control somehow." Shanks frowned, drumming his fingers on the table.

"And how do you know? Forgive me, but it doesn't seem like something that would be all over the street, yoi." Marco said. If what Shanks said was true- and while he didn't exactly get along with the man, he knew he wasn't one to lie- they were in for quite a fight.

"Benn's been looking into it since last night. We figured with Izo out of commission, you'd have some information issues." Shanks picked up his cup and almost instantly the party atmosphere flooded back into the room. Marco stiffened at the implication that they couldn't take care of themselves, but Ace rested a hand on his knee, the casual touch startling him into silence.

"Thanks, Shanks," Ace said, smiling at him, "I appreciate what you've done."

"Good, it was for you and not your cranky mother hen anyway," Shanks said, and Marco sighed, At this point, he just really wanted to leave. Shanks slid an envelope over to Ace, who pocketed it quickly. "We don't have his current location, sadly since we lost track of him this morning, but he's probably ensconced someplace you can't get to him for now, at least. You may have to wait him out." Ace nodded and moved to get up, much to Marco's relief. He couldn't wait to leave.

"And where do you think you're going?" Shanks said, a subtle threat in his tone. He paused, and Marco tensed, wondering if they'd have to fight out after all. "You can't leave without having another drink! It's been too long since you visited. You too, bird brain, since I doubt you'll leave Ace here by himself."

Marco was about to drag Ace out of there by force, peaceful relations with the other four emperors de damned, but Ace sent him a pleading glance, reminding Marco that for some reason he willingly visited Shanks. He settled back in his chair reluctantly as Shanks and Ace traded news.

* * *

It was already dark by the time they managed to excuse themselves from the party Shanks has decided to throw in their honor. Ace had finally managed to free them by telling Shanks he needed to go home and get Luffy dinner. Ace snickered. Apparently a hungry Luffy was a memory that never faded, and the entire gang had practically thrown them out when he'd mentioned. Marco had been beginning to look like he might snap and cause a war or something.

Once the were outside in the crisp fall air and a few blocks away, Ace stopped under a street light, catching hold of Marco's arm when he didn't notice and kept walking on.

"What now?" Ace asked.

"I figured you'd go home and feed your brother." Marco turned to face him. "Didn't you need to do that?"

"Nah, Luffy won't be back in time for dinner, and Sanji would feed him anyway. I'm not allowed anymore." Marco blinked and opened his mouth then shook his head, obviously deciding not to ask. "I just said that because you wanted to leave. I meant what is our next move?"

"Sadly, Shanks was right in that if Akainu is hiding him, we really can't do anything but wait for them to strike first. So, I'll still take you home I suppose. We can discuss it more tomorrow. Just report into the Moby Dick tomorrow."

Ace hummed in agreement, releasing Marco and began slowly walking towards his apartment, keeping pace with Marco, who seemed to be in no hurry.

"So how do you know Shanks? I mean apart from the obvious," Ace said, keeping his voice casual. Marco laughed.

"When we were around your age, we fought all the time. So old rivals, maybe? He's a good man, but he drives me absolutely insane," Marco said. Ace squashed his feeling of relief. He shouldn't care. He did though, so maybe he should do something about it. Ignoring it didn't seem right either way.

"I noticed," Ace said dryly, "I thought you were truly going to hit him just before we left."

"But what about you? I never knew you had ties with another emperor, yoi." Marco stared at him intensely.

Ace shrugged. "He saved Luffy when we were kids. He's Luffy's mentor or idol, so I saw him a lot growing up."

"That's all, yoi?" Marco asked, staring intently at him, and Ace found himself caught in Marco's eyes for the second time that day, heart pounding. Izo was right. He really had been blind. He forced himself to chuckle.

"What else could there be? He trained us both a bit, but we were pretty independant, so we didn't see him very often."

"You two seem pretty close," Marco said, and Ace smiled reassuringly at him.

"He and Luffy are closer. He's a good man and always fun though." Ace wasn't sure if he was trying to get a reaction, but if he had been he wouldn't have been disappointed. It wasn't like he needed more proof, but the subtle way Marco froze briefly when he complimented Shanks before humming in agreement and resuming walking made something click. He wanted Marco to not like it when he said that. It made him happy, and while that was probably not a good thing, it should be addressed.

They were about halfway between the Moby Dick and Ace's apartment. There was no reason for Marco to walk him home, especially since he'd have such a long trip back. It wasn't like Ace couldn't take care of himself, even if he walked through some of the seedier areas. Ace slowed down, captured Marco's hand in his, and stopped. He studied Marco's flustered face, tilting his head, taking in details he'd never noticed he come to know so well.

"Ace, what-" Marco began, but Ace grabbed his tie and pulled his head down enough so that he could fasten their lips together.

Marco made a muffled squawk of protest or surprise, but his free arm came around Ace, their hands still linked. His lips softened and began moving with Ace's, and he pulled Ace more tightly against him, pressing them close until there was no distance between them. His tongue swept across Ace's lips, coaxing him to open his mouth. Ace relented easily, more than willing to allow Marco access.

One of them moaned at the contact, but Ace could not possibly have said who; maybe it was both of them? His heart beat wildly as their tongues played, and his head spun with lack of air or too much Marco.

He released Marco's tie, his hand entangling itself in Marco's hair, knocking his hat to the street, as he explored Marco and his unique taste. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth radiating off Marco consuming him, the hand that was possessively caressing up and down his back burning impressions that felt like they'd never fade.

Finally, Ace either had to pull back for air or pass out. He decided that no matter how appealing the latter sounded, that he should break the kiss and pulled away despite Marco's noise of protest, resting his forehead on Marco's shoulder as he gasped for air. Marco's heartbeat raced soothingly in his ear, and it took quite a bit of effort to step back. Ace felt a bit of pride at the openly dumbfounded expression on Marco's face. He grinned up at him, lips feeling swollen as they stretched.

"Wow, apparently I really am oblivious. Anyway, there's no reason for you to walk me home, so I'll see you early tomorrow at the Moby Dick." Ace picked up Marco's hat and put it on Marco, who was still frozen in shock or something. He'd be fine soon.

"Bye!" Ace called, before ducking into the alley nearby, heading home in a less than direct way. He had some thinking to do, and a walk seemed like the perfect time for it.

***Putting the screw to him- question him**

***Big cheese- the boss**

***Juice Joint- bar**

***Ossified- Drunk**

***Mrs. Grundy - a straight laced, boring, uptight person**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**


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